


Healing

by sergeantbee



Series: From One Rainy Place to Another [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angry Kissing, Angst and Feels, Bucky Barnes Feels, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Healing, Kissing, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-12 23:17:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7953007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sergeantbee/pseuds/sergeantbee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You and Bucky have been living together as a couple for six months. Bucky is struggling with his mental health and hides his true feelings away from you in order to keep you happy. Unfortunately it has the opposite affect.</p><p>Steve thinks he might just have the perfect plan to make you both happy again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Obligation

**Author's Note:**

> For the beautiful Georgiana <3 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy :D not quite sure what i've got myself into here lol

Bucky was living with you. It had been six months since he'd moved in and you'd started a relationship with him, at first it had been beautiful. You loved him and he loved you, even now when everything was not quite so perfect and brand new as it had been.

There seemed to be no problem in your relationship to an outsider looking in, and for the most part they'd be right, but something was bugging you. Bucky was like a safe, he locked up his more complicated feelings somewhere deep inside and refused to open up no matter how much you pleaded with him to share with you.

It'd all started with the nightmares. He'd wake up in a cold sweat most nights after shouting and groaning in his sleep. The first time you'd brushed it off as a one off and had cradled him close to your heart and soothed him back to sleep. But it kept happening, and you were getting worried. 

You'd wake to either his shouting or the feeling of his tossing and turning besides you. You'd asked and asked him to tell you what he had been dreaming about but he always refused and so all you could do was hold him until his breathing became steady again.

You'd consulted Steve and Sam about it, Sam immediately identified it as a symptom of PTSD and suggested Bucky see someone about it. Of course you'd mentioned that to Bucky, only to have him get up and lock himself in the bathroom for the better part of an hour. You'd kept at it though and eventually he'd agreed, just to shut you up. He'd only been twice but you doubted he even said anything while he was there.

Then there was the paranoia. He made sure the doors and windows were bolted shut every night and would stand by the apartment windows staring down suspiciously at the people below, as if they were all working against him somehow.

"Bucky, how long have you been standing there?" You'd said one evening after coming home from work.

"I have to make sure." He had mumbled back, not even bothering to turn to face you.

"Make sure of what?" You asked.

"That we're safe, that no ones watching us."

"Bucky, we're safe." You said, placing a hand gingerly on his shoulder, feeling your heart break just a little when he tensed up at the touch, "SHIELD are making sure of it."

"They might have missed something." He said, narrowing his eyes at the city below.

You looked at him sadly and moved in front of him, the window to your back.

"We're safe, I promise." You whispered, taking his face in your hands and staring almost pleadingly into his eyes, hoping he'd believe you one day.

He never seemed to though. He flinched at the horn of a car, he jumped when someone shouted, he tensed up whenever anyone in the street brushed up against him. Sometimes he just cried without warning and all you could do was hold him close. 

Sometimes he'd cry for hours, clutching onto you and drenching your t-shirt in tears, other times it would last seconds then he'd swallow, wipe his eyes and try his best to give you a smile. You loved him, and it hurt like hell to see him suffer like that. He knew what he was doing to you, once he'd tried to leave, told you he was just hurting you but you'd quickly shut him up and dragged him back inside kissing him desperately, telling him you loved him over and over.

Of course it wasn't always bad. All the good times seemed to be spent inside your apartment, watching TV, making out on the sofa, cooking a meal together. He'd smile and laugh and brush his fingers over your skin gently, all heaviness and sadness gone from his eyes for just a few precious moments. You treasured them and tried to have as many as you could together, some days were better than others.

"Morning, beautiful." He said, walking into the kitchen where you were preparing breakfast.

"Good morning." You said wearily, giving him a little smile as he walked over to you.

He hugged your from behind, wrapping his warm arms around you and propping his chin on your shoulder.

"Smells good." He said, looking down at the eggs frying in the pan.

You smiled and watched them fry, listening to them spit every few seconds. He always did this, acted as if nothing had happened the next morning, even if he had spent hours lying awake. It tore you apart knowing it must just be an act, he was trying to be happy for you but ironically it was only making you feel worse.

You took a deep breath and watched the whites of the egg crisp at the edges.

"You know you don't have to pretend with me." You whispered, probably for the hundredth time.

He loosened his grip on you slightly and you felt hot air on the side of your neck as he sighed. "Don't burn them, I like my yolk runny." He mumbled, taking a step back.

You felt the warmth from him leaving you and heard him pull back a chair and sit at the kitchen table. Telling him outright never did work.

You sat together in silence eating your breakfast, Bucky was reading the newspaper and you watched the TV in the corner of the room playing some morning show.

"I think we should have sex."

You almost choked on a piece of toast as you turned to stare wide eyed at Bucky. He gazed back poker faced, then his lips curled into a smile that didn't reach his eyes, they hardly did anymore.

"You look like i've just told you I'm moving to Antarctica." He chuckled, "The idea of having sex with me isn't so bad is it?"

"No, no. Of course not." You said quickly, laughing a little. If only he knew how many times you'd imagined it.

"I just thought...well we've been together six months and we've been doing other stuff, why not go all the way?" He said, with a little shrug, playing with a baked bean on his plate.

"But...are you sure? Are you ready?" You asked, your own breakfast forgotten.

He hesitated for a moment which was never a good sign, "Sure I am, doll." He said, looking back up at you, "I'm not getting any younger over here."

"Right." You said, running a hand through your hair. 

This didn't feel right...no, it didn't feel natural. Did Bucky think this is what you wanted? You were perfectly happy not having sex until he was ready in himself, it had taken weeks for him to even allow you to see him naked. Any change in his life was a major deal, if something were to change too drastically you worried about what effects it might have on his already unstable mental health.

"You don't have to." You said, and knew immediately that that was the wrong thing to say.

He furrowed his brow and looked hurt.

"I know." He said, "I'm not suggesting it out of obligation, I'm asking because I want to."

"I'm just worried about you Buck." You said calmly, "It's a big step, I don't want you to suggest it just because you think that's what I want."

"I'm not."

"Ok...ok, that's good."

You both sat in an awkward silence for a moment before Bucky stood up suddenly, putting his plate next to the sink.

"I'm going to see Steve." He announced, making his way to the bathroom to get ready.

You sighed and ran a hand down your face.


	2. Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve has a talk with Bucky, but it doesn't do anything to change Bucky's mind about opening up. He decides to get his frutrations out in a way that he's sure would please you, only it doesn't go according to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and kudos :D hope you enjoy this next chapter, let me know what you think <3

"What did she say?" Steve asked.

Bucky was sitting opposite him in the armchair in Steve's apartment, he hadn't even bothered to take off his jacket.

"She asked if I was ready." He mumbled, looking down at the floor and away from Steve.

"And, are you?" He asked softly.

Bucky shuffled a little in the chair, even though he knew he could talk to Steve about anything without being judged he still felt slightly uncomfortable discussing his sex life. Steve on the other hand acted as though he had this conversation everyday, which did help to diffuse the awkwardness a little.

"I guess." He replied, with a shrug.

"Buck, if you're not ready-"

"I want her to be happy." He said suddenly, looking up at Steve, silently begging him to understand, "She's always sad because of me, I want to give her something. I want us to be a normal couple, without all the shit going on inside my brain."

Steve smiled sadly and looked at his best friend for a moment, "Not all couples have sex Bucky." He said gently, "And having sex won't fix all your problems, you must know that. She's sad because she loves you, she wants you to be happy and I guess it's hard for her to be happy if you're not."

"I try and act like I am." Bucky said.

"She's not stupid, Buck. She can see straight through you."

There was a silence in which Bucky stared at his metal hand, watching the components move as he tapped his index finger on the arm of the chair.

"How's therapy going?" Steve asked, leaning back against the sofa.

Bucky stiffened up a little and tensed his jaw. He was just waiting for Steve to bring that up, "Fine."

"Are you talking to him now?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't like him." Bucky said, and stood up suddenly, making his way to the front door. He wasn't about to sit there and explain why he didn't want to talk to him, how would that help anyone? Everyone seemed to be saying the wrong things that day.

Steve followed and watched his friend sadly.

"Then we'll find another therapist." Steve suggested.

"No." Bucky replied bluntly, reaching for the door handle.

"Then please, at least open up to Y/n. You hide everything from her, it's not doing either of you any good."

Bucky turned to face him, a scowl set on his face.

"Not doing us any good? If she knew what was going on in my head she'd leave me in a second." He said through gritted teeth, tears threatening to spill down his cheeks.

"You must know that's not true." Steve said, taking a step forward, "She loves you."

"I've done horrible things Steve."

"That wasn't you."

"It's still these hands that did them." He said, raising his hands up in front of him as if to prove his point.

Before Steve could say another word Bucky was bolting out of the door. Steve ran a hand through his hair, sighing sadly. He closed the door and picked up his phone, dialling quickly.

"Tony." He said, holding it to his ear, "I need your help."

~~~~~~

Bucky made his way back home, hands buried deep in his pockets, his strides long and his expression dark enough to make people give him a wide berth as they walked past him.

Steve's words haunted Bucky. How could he not see that he just wanted to give something back to you, he wanted you to know he loved you and cared for you but lately the words didn't seem to make it past his lips. He flirted with you on his good days, he hoped that was enough to make you see he still cherished you but he had a feeling it wasn't. He kicked an empty can on the sidewalk and watched it spin off into the traffic and get crushed by a tyre. 

He wished he could leave you, let you find someone less messed up than him and live a normal life where you weren't sad. But selfishly he couldn't, he loved you and sometimes you were the only thing that kept him sane and kept him from running off again.

He decided if he couldn't tell you how much he loved you he'd have to show you.

~~~~~

You knew his visit to Steve hadn't gone well as soon as Bucky stepped through the door. His anger and upset seemed to fill up the apartment as soon as the door slammed closed behind him.

His heavy boots were toed off and flung carelessly in the hall and he came striding into the living room with a face like thunder. He was silent as he approached you and you gave him a small smile hoping it would help diffuse his anger. His face remained hard as stone though as he sat besides you in the sofa. You were just thinking about what to say to him when his mouth was on yours, hungry and desperate. His right hand cupped your face as his left sunk down your back and up under your shirt, making you gasp into his mouth at the coolness of metal.

You reciprocated the kiss, burying your hand in his hair and tugging at the strands just how you knew he liked it. You wondered what had brought this on, he had seemed so upset, maybe he just needed to get his anger out in some way, either way you weren't complaining.

His tongue delved into your mouth and he moaned as yours found his way into his. His metal hand had travelled to your hip and held you tightly, digging the metal fingers into your flesh. Your own hand found the hem of his t-shirt and dived underneath to feel up the ridges of his abs and to cup his right pec. He groaned against your mouth. You made out for a long while, delighting in the feeling of one another. Then Bucky was wrapping your legs around his waist and lifting you up, walking you to the bedroom.

He nipped at your bottom lip and started to trail his kisses down your neck, biting down on your pulse point harshly only to lavish the area with soft licks immediately after as if in apology.

He lay you down gently on your bed and hovered above you, finally breaking away. You both panted, your chests heaving against each others and faces flush.

"I want to make you feel good." He murmured, his lips a hair's breadth away from your own.

You looked into those bright eyes of his and stuck out your tongue to wet his bottom lip, urging him to go on. He practically whimpered at the touch and he kisses you gently for a few seconds before pulling back again.

"I'm ready." He said.

You knew what that meant immediately, he wanted to have sex. You were still worried about him though, he said he wasn't offering out of obligation but you couldn't help but feel he was just doing it for you. He was still so unsure about himself and you got the impression that he thought your happiness equated to his, if he made you happy he would become happy in himself. But he would still have nightmares and flashbacks even if you were happy, he wasn't putting himself first as he should be doing.

You hesitated and bit your lip, breaking eye contact with him.

"Oh Bucky." You mumbled, feeling tears prickle your eyes and a lump forming in your throat.

"Doll, please don't." He whispered weakly, kissing your cheeks, hoping to soothe the tears away, "I want to do this for you."

"What about you Bucky?" You said, looking back up at him, "You must know that my own happiness won't help you get over your problems."

He frowned a little, still hovering over you.

"Maybe not completely but I'll be happy for at least a little while knowing I was the cause of your pleasure." He said.

It was your turn to frown.

"You already are." You said firmly, rolling you both over so you were looking down at him, "Every day you bring me happiness just by being there next to me when I wake up. And I'm terrified Bucky, terrified one day I'll wake up and you'll have run away thinking you don't deserve me or something equally ridiculous."

You were openly crying now, the tears falling quickly down your cheeks as Bucky watched you sadly. You'd held this back for so long it was like a dam had burst when you reached the point of letting go.

"I just want you to take care of yourself and allow the people who love you to help you." You went on, sobbing over his chest, "Please open up Bucky."

At that you collapsed onto his chest, crying loudly. Hot tears spilling down onto his chest, soaking his t-shirt. He pulled you to him closer and rested his head against yours making soothing shushing sounds to help you calm down. He hated seeing you like this because of him, he needed to do something, you were right. He needed to open up if not for his sake then for yours.


End file.
